a river running raw
by therentyoupay
Summary: ANTHOLOGY. Every time she closes her eyes. — drabble and excerpt collection, Korra-centric, multiple pairings.
1. process of elimination: TahK, angst, T

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.

**Author's Notes:** Another little trove for all of my drabbles and snippets. So it's not like I have a multi-chapter fic (or four... five?) still in the works or anything, right? Whatever, this will probably be where I post excerpts (re: fifteen minute time limit/flash fics) from the stories that I have neither the time nor the energy to write. :P

_Legend of Korra_ fandom. Various pairings. Here we go.

* * *

**Pairing: **Tahno/Korra  
**Genre: **Angst/Romance/Hurt/Comfort**  
Word Count: **450  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes: **Written post-episode 5, pre-6. Must have listened to _Feel Good Drag_ by Anberlin at least fifteen times while conjuring this idea.

**Optional Back Story: **In my mind, Korra and company have just engaged in a furious battle with Amon, in which Tahno and another number of benders are able to restore their "lost" bending. Korra experienced yet another near death experience, but when she needs her teammates most in the aftermath, they have once again left her behind in order to cope in all of their own separate ways. In a fit of desperation (anger, frustration, loneliness), Korra takes Tahno up on his offer of getting a drink back in his apartment as some warped urge for affirmation of life, and after some alcohol gets in their system and some extensive flirting occurs, the conversation strays to Korra's "love life" and grows heated.

* * *

**process of elimination**

* * *

"And where were they the first time you challenged Amon?" he demanded, eyes wild, and Korra was momentarily stilled by surprise because Tahno was supposed to be cold and dignified and calculating and wasn't supposed to just _lose_ it. "Where were your precious teammates when you faced him today?" He crept closer, hair dancing in front of his eyes with his erratic movements, and then he was right back in her face as he whispered, "Where are they now?"

His questions and their all-too-true implications snapped Korra out of her reverie, and it wasn't long before she was shouting too. "What's your point?" she spat viciously, roughly shoving him back a few paces as she threw her hands into his chest. "Trying to break me down and get at me by ruling everyone else out? Swoop in after they've all left me hanging so you can finally get your chance?" She wiped the stray spit that had fallen from her mouth and gotten caught along her lips, and focused on pouring out all of the anger, all of the hatred, and a little of the guilt and shame and fear too. "You're disgusting."

There was a stretch of pause as Tahno considered her words, taking time to let the moment hang in the air. Korra stood her ground, her hair a disheveled mess about her cut and bruised face, and waited expectantly for an insult that never came. Tahno released a breath, something akin to a mockery of laughter and a scoff, and stepped closer, looking her dead in the eyes.

"At least with me you'd always know where you stand," he promised, looking more like a man than Korra had ever seen him. But she knew all that his promises could and could not entail, and so her voice broke bitterly as she lashed out one last time.

"Or where I lay... is that it?"

Her uneven breathing was finally taking its toll, and the exhausted Avatar seemed to deflate before his very eyes. When he stepped closer, she didn't retreat, and when he carefully raised long, slender fingers to tilt the gentle curve of her chin up to face him, she didn't turn away. With a slowness that was almost painful, Tahno leaned in, watching through half-lidded eyes as Korra stood on the edge of rebellion. With an electric touch of his lips to hers that could hardly be considered a touch at all, he beckoned her to join him, to fall over the precipice together, again and again and again.

As his lips drew her in, he felt her fall, and a small smirk slid onto his lips as he graciously offered, "Whichever you prefer."


	2. not for us: multiple, angst, PG

**Characters: **Spirit Guide!Aang & Korra**  
Pairing: **Undetermined/Makorra/Borra/Tahorra  
**Genre: **Hurt/Comfort**  
Word Count: **150  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes: **Written post-episode 5, pre-6.

**Optional Back Story:** In my mind, this very brief snippet of conversation is taking place after Korra has been injured and experiences a flashback, in which she learns the truth about Aang and Katara's marriage. Having always believed that Katara and Aang had been madly in love, Korra is disturbed to find that Katara and Fire Lord Zuko had been separated by her marriage to the Avatar, which was performed out of duty to her tribe.

Confused by all of the pain and suffering she vicariously experienced in the moment of Aang's discovery of Katara's true feelings, Korra has entered the spirit world to confront Aang about how he could have possibly accepted such a reality... And also to seek advice, for she has grown discouraged with the plight of her own love life as well.

* * *

**not for us  
**

* * *

"Love will never come easy, will it?" she ground out bitterly. Her voice burned with fire, but her eyes quivered with unshed tears. "Not for me."

The folds around Aang's eyes crinkled as he offered an apologetic smile. The deeply-carved lines of laughter revealed the delight he'd taken in being the most renowned prankster of the era, but the creases also spoke of long years, and though contentment shone in his eyes, she was still able to see the disappointing truth of her reality.

"Does love ever come easily?" he prompted gently, and Korra wished she were more like him... not just for the usual reasons of duty and responsibility, but for the inner peace and acceptance that permeated the warm, bluish glow of his aura.

"But it's different for us," she whispered, and Aang's soft, sad eyes told her what she already knew—that he could not disagree.


	3. don't let it throw you: TahK & BoK, T

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.

**Pairing: **one-sided!Borra, implied!Tahnorra  
**Genre: **Romance/Drama**  
Word Count: **533  
**Rating:** PG  
**Musical Inspiration: **"When Avatars Fall in Love" by chongthenomad. Check it out!  
**Notes: **Written post-episode 7, pre-8. Falls into the "oh, look, Tahno's joined the Korra gang!" category. _**Vanessa Masters**_ asked for some Borra and this is what came to mind. :) I hope this suits your fancy!

**Optional Back Story: **Pretend for a moment that, for whatever reason, a slightly more put-together Tahno has just moved onto Air Temple Island, and is obviously met with varying degrees of welcome. One evening, Bolin and Korra are being themselves out on the veranda, laughing about something or other, when Tahno strolls onto the patio and strikes up a conversation. Bolin still feels unsure of how to act around this rival-turned-reluctant-housemate, and the other two inevitably do most of the talking (read: bickering). Although Korra and Tahno have a rather cutting match of wits, Bolin notices that there is something almost _playful_ about their exchanges now, and after Tahno eventually leaves with an almost-signature smirk, Bolin tries to address the issue with Korra.

* * *

**don't let it throw you**

* * *

"So... you and Tahno seem to be getting along," Bolin begins purposefully.

Korra blinks at him through baffled eyes not once, but twice, before her whole body contorts with the force of her bark of laughter, and Bolin can hear it sounding all the way from her gut.

"Are you kidding?" she asks him with an astonished smile. "You call _that_ 'getting along'?"

"Well... I don't know," Bolin backpedals, feeling a little silly now that she's doing that thing with her eyebrows that she usually does to tell him when he's being more ridiculous than usual. "You seemed... like you enjoyed it or something."

Korra gives a small, amused shake of her head as she stretches long, slender limbs, spreading herself even farther along the stone railing on which they sit, and it occurs to Bolin that she doesn't realize what she's doing—_like always_—by that, because now their legs are touching, bare feet innocently brushing against one another in ways that make Bolin think—_more and more each day_—of things that have little to do with innocence. And even as he clears his throat to clear his mind, and even though he knows that Korra isn't the kind of girl to play these kinds of games, he wonders what she would do if he let her know _exactly _what she does_.._.In all honesty, however, he knows with certainty that if he ever did tell her, she would stop. It would all stop.

(And he also knows that, as gutsy as he is, he doesn't yet have the guts to face that.)

"I assure you," she tells him as she lets her eyes flutter closed with the passing breeze. "Tahno and I are not friends. We've just... come to an understanding, that's all."

He absently wonders how a girl so strong can still look so small and peaceful as she lazes about with him near the shoreline and _why can't she see how easy this is? _But she has answered his question suitably, and this is enough to end these lingering frustrations for the moment.

"Yeah," Bolin scoffs, trying to hide his gleeful inner-relief with disdain. "I'll give him some credit for all he's been through, but I still don't have much faith in the guy."

"I know what you mean," Korra huffs, a hint scornfully. "I don't trust him as far as I can throw him."

At first glance, it seems that his concerns have been put to rest, and Bolin allows himself to follow Korra's lead of relaxing deeper into solidity of the stonework around him... until he sees an amused smile grace Korra's lips as she loses herself to some private joke, and his curiosity is unpleasantly spiked. Bolin thinks that she is telling the truth and wants to be satisfied with the answer she's given him, so he tries to ignore the distant, far-off look in her eyes as she gazes out into the sea. But her words replay in his mind, and it occurs to him then that he doesn't know if he should be less worried or _more_ so.

After all... she has a pretty good arm.


	4. it's you: BoK & multiple, angst, PG

**Disclaimer:** I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.

**Pairing: **one-sided!Borra, implied!various  
**Genre: **Romance/Drama**  
Word Count: **150  
**Rating:** PG  
**Notes: **_8/12/12._ Flash!drabble! Oh, don't mind me ending sentences with prepositions and still not adhering to proper grammatical guidelines. Again. But this time I have an excuse: during the days in Spain in which this was written, I felt like I couldn't speak any language, first or second, haaaaaaa, so please cut me some slack. No back-story to this one, at least none that I had in mind beforehand. Nothing special. This is just me trying to regain some semblance of English.

* * *

**it's you**

* * *

"Leave it to you, Korra, to end up liking two guys at once."

"I don't even know how it happened," she drags an agitated hand through her long, dark hair. Frustrated. Defeated. Torn.

Guilty.

And he thinks, _It's not your fault._

_Your heart is too big—if anyone in this world has enough space in her heart to fill it up with that much love, it's you._

Bolin doesn't realize he's spoken his musings aloud until she turns to him, her eyes soft and appreciative, but her smile jaded with bitter resignation. The night is cold and the rusted orange of the moon, darkening around the edges like burnt mahogany, it's beautiful, but it hurts his eyes.

"I don't know about that," she whispers gently, turning away. "It certainly feels empty enough sometimes."

And standing so near to her, sensing the space between his fingers and her hair, Bolin stays still.

* * *

**End Note:** Nothing special. About a week and a half ago, I was out on a night run through the Spanish countryside and looked up. When I saw how gorgeous the moon was, this my mind was hit with that one line (_enough space in her heart_), and it had to be written down. I honestly don't actually feel like Bolin should be friend-zoned as much as I write him to be, but that's just how it's been coming out. Bah.

Also: Got back from Spain two days ago! _gray skies ahead _updates coming soon. (And my 22nd birthday is two days away, yay!)


	5. vacuum of time: Korra, angst, T

**Character: **Korra  
**Genre: **Angst  
**Prompt: **_vacuum of time_ (From **moldycookies**' LiveJournal.)**  
Word Count: **300  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes: **_1/23/13. _I often need to switch back and for the between light-hearted and angst. I've been working on _Personal Record_ a lot lately and—while I so enjoy a little escapist High School AU drama—I do miss the pure, justified angst that I know Korra is capable of. I think the role of the Avatar is one of the most astonishing concepts about this entire series, and I can only imagine the horrifying pressures of possessing such power. Consider this an exploration of what it might be like during one of her human moments of weakness.

**Musical Inspiration: **"Here Comes the Flood" by Peter Gabriel. One of my all-time favorite songs.

* * *

**vacuum of time**

* * *

She drowns in a black sea, grasping at broken waves just beneath the surface, desperately gasping for sharp stabs of air that are too far and too few in between. The salt in the water burns her eyes, blends her tears, and drags and scrapes against her skin until it is shredded and torn, until there's nothing but open wounds left stinging.

She coughs up smoke, feeling her flesh scorch and bubble against blistering heat, her world a blinding white of pain. The fire—_the heat_—will kill her, she thinks, if the dark, billowing clouds do not consume her first.

She suffocates. She's trapped beneath the impossible weight of something bearing down upon her chest, now nearly crushed, bones creaking and rattling against the strain. She's lost in the dark, lodged between mounds of earth too large to exist, too mammoth not to be worlds of their own, and then it hits her, what these not-mountains are, why—_young Avatar, don't you see? This is the weight of the world upon your shoulders._

She falls, suspended and wound tight through aimless downward spirals, slipping through unseen coils of frigid, unforgiving winds. They are whipping at her face, tearing at her skin, her mouth, her nose, until she cannot breathe, until she cannot think. The world is blank and vast and spinning, and she continues to fall, continues to spiral without end, but the air is thinning and it cannot go on forever, there cannot be enough left for her, _it must end._

And it always does, eventually, in a jolt of tears and sweat and fear, and with the knowledge that the vacuum of time is collapsing in on itself, sucking her into the void, gripping her soul tighter with each passing day—

—and that she is powerless to stop it.


	6. holding hands: TahK, angstcomfort, T

**Disclaimer: **Disclaim, disclaim, disclaim.**  
****Notes: **_3/11/13_. I've joined the **_30 Day Tahnorra Challenge_** on tumblr! My newest goal is to make each and every one of these contributions perfect drabbles: exactly one hundred words. Unlike _That One Night_, in which all of the prompts tie together to create a series of vignettes that form an even larger story, these drabbles will become part of my anthology collection, _a river running raw_. Wish me luck!**  
**  
**Pairing: **Tahno/Korra  
**Genre: **Angst/Romance/Hurt/Comfort**  
Prompt: **Written for the **_30 Day Tahnorra Challenge_**. Day #1: _Holding Hands_.**  
Word Count: **100  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Timeline: **_Episode 10**: **__Turning the Tides_, AU.

* * *

**holding hands  
**

* * *

He'd seen Mako do it once.

The firebender probably thought nobody was watching, but at this point Tahno doubted that he would have cared even if he knew; half the time, Tahno wasn't even convinced he noticed his own girlfriend anymore.

Surreptitiously, Tahno's eyes glanced left, right, and back to the bed, down at the sleeping figure that looked so out of place in so many layers of cream-colored cloth, peaceful and sleeping and unfamiliar.

Carefully, he reached out.

One second only—_maybe two_—and it was done; his fingers slipped from hers, drifting along the soft, wrinkled sheets, cold.


	7. cowardice: TahK, angst, T

**Disclaimer: **Disclaim, disclaim, disclaim.**  
****Notes: **_3/12/13_. I've joined the **_30 Day Tahnorra Challenge_** on tumblr! My newest goal is to make each and every one of these contributions perfect drabbles: exactly one hundred words. Unlike _That One Night_, in which all of the prompts tie together to create a series of vignettes that form an even larger story, these drabbles will become part of my anthology collection, _a river running raw_. Wish me luck!**  
**  
**Pairing: **Tahno/Korra  
**Genre: **Angst/Romance/Hurt/Comfort**  
Prompt: **Written for the **_30 Day Tahnorra Challenge_**. Day #2:_ Cuddling_.**  
Word Count: **100  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Timeline: **_Episode 11**: **__Skeletons in the Closet_, AU.

* * *

**cuddling  
**_(cowardice)**  
**_

* * *

"So... It really gets to you."

Korra's jaw tightened.

Tahno shifted back with a scoff, and eyed her in the darkness of the underground tunnels; the others called the hideout a community, but Korra's worst fears whispered _cowardice._ "I see," he said quietly.

She hissed into the shadows: "You don't know _what _you see."

"...no?"

She didn't follow his thoughtful gaze, back toward the two sleeping figures huddled for warmth near the glow of the lamps; it was impossible not to think of her own arms, wrapped around nothing but herself.

"Whatever you say, Uh-vatar."


	8. watching a movie: TahK, humor, T

**Disclaimer: **Disclaim, disclaim, disclaim.**  
**

**Pairing: **Tahno/Korra  
**Genre: **Romance/Humor/Pointless Make-Out Session**  
Word Count: **100  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Notes: **_3/13/13_. Written for the _30 Day OTP Shipping Challenge_ – **Tahnorra**. Day #3: Watching a Movie.  
**Universe: **AU, undergrad, freshman year.

* * *

**watching a movie**_**  
**_

* * *

The TV was still _on_, of course, albeit with the volume down low and some horrific groaning of poorly-done zombies flashing across the screen. (After all, every freshman knew that _'watching a movie' _was just another codename; sort of like _'listening to music,'_ but without the _extra bass,_ if you caught Korra's drift.)

Euphemistic late nights and make-outs to the cheerful sound of screaming; Korra couldn't exactly say that it was a lifestyle she would have imagined for herself—_say_, six months ago—but she sure wasn't complaining.

"What's so funny?" he poked.

Korra smirked.

"You got any good music?"


End file.
